Bryce 100 Race Report (Santa Style)
Bryce 100 Race Report
Is a pasta dish,
flavored with ‘Chipotle’ sauce, spicy? In retrospect, I seriously wish I had
thoroughly pondered this critical question before ordering a plate of Chipotle Pasta at the
pre-race dinner on Friday night. Being in Utah, I assumed any spice would be metered
out so thoughtfully as not to destroy the taste buds of the very homogenously
white population.
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| The Fateful Plate |
In one bite, I found
out I had completely misjudged the palate of Utahans. I was able to stomach it by swallowing individual pieces of pasta whole with
lots of water, beer, and bread to wash it down. The strong spices irritated my
stomach the night before the race and my internals still felt touch-and-go the
morning of the race.
We arrived at the
starting line in Hatch, UT at 4:20 in the morning. Having done packet pick-up the
day before, there wasn’t much to do except hit the porta-potties and stay warm
in the car.
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| Messing around at the start |
Getting out of the car
15 minutes before the start, I was startled to hear someone shout “Stefan.” In
the car next to us, fellow Cocodonan Karel Baloun had also been anxiously
awaiting the start. It was nice to meet him in person, having conversed with
him on social media a number of times.
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| Karel and I on the initial road climb |
At the start line, I
spoke with Jose Sosa, another fellow Cocodona finisher, who had graciously
offered to pace me for the last marathon or so. He was out there
crewing and supporting a number of friends from his San Diego-based running
group, many of whom quickly mobbed me for a group picture. Moments like these
remind me of how small the ultrarunning world truly is and how welcoming its members
are.
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| Jose and I at the start line |
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| Start Line Mob |
After taking the
requisite pictures with my fellow Bay Area 100-milers, Dan Aspromonte and Sam
Louie, we jostled our way into the crowd (my first mass start since the
beginning of the pandemic) and awaited the starting gun.
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| Sam, Dan, Mom, and I |
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| Excited or Nervous - Who Knows? |
The start was mildly anticlimactic, however, as all 225 starters were quickly forced into a bottleneck 20 yards from the start line in order to avoid a stampede rushing over a cattle guard. After some brief conga line action, I enjoyed running the first two miles of fire road up to Proctor Canyon Aid with Dan and Sam.
During this section, I was also fortunate to bump into Karel. We started chatting about his experience at Cocodona and his upcoming race schedule (it’s insane by the way – check out his ultrasignup). We breezed through the first station and hit the steep singletrack to Blue Fly A/S.
This 1.7-mile section
was some of the prettiest on the whole course. The sun had risen enough that
headlamps were no longer necessary, but the moon was still out and the whole
earthe bore a beautiful early morning glow.
Climbing to an
elevation of 8,500, I realized I was experiencing slight altitude
sickness with a mild headache and some nausea. I took one ibuprofen and hoped
that would be sufficient to calm the symptoms. We soon reached Blue Fly Aid
Station and I quickly grabbed some salty potato chips.
The next section to
East Fork A/S consisted of runnable, mostly downhill, fire road. I spent about
half of this section getting into a groove running with Karel. We ran past
these beautiful mountain meadows and marveled at the spectacular hues of the
sunrise.
I soon bid farewell to Karel as I was hoping to push the pace early on because I knew it would get hot and steep later. With the cool temperatures, I did not need to stop at the water drop at mile 11. Instead, with no chatty running companions near me, I turned on some music and cruised to East Fork A/S at mile 13.
Here, we were able to
see crew for the first time. Still feeling strong, I grabbed a turkey and
cheese sandwich, a Coke, and chatted with my dad for a minute or two before
continuing along the fire road.
The next section to Coyote Hollow A/S was filled with sandy and dusty fire road. Worried about my breathing getting impaired from all the dust, I pulled my buff up whenever I was with a lot of runners or an ATV passed by.
This six-mile section flew by and we soon joined a road that would lead us up to Coyote Hollow. While I understand the desire to put a crew access aid station here as we wouldn’t see crew for another 40 miles or so, the incredible amount of cars on the road kicked up significant dust for the runners and many of us were audibly hacking when we arrived at Coyote Hollow.
Knowing I wouldn’t see
my dad for a while, I took a longer break here. I wisely took the
time to clean all the dust off my feet and put on new socks. I also drank an
orange Powerade and ate some turkey and cheese tortilla roll-ups. It was
unfortunate, however, that the aid station did not have ice as the next section
to Thunder Mountain would be hot.
I walked with my dad
for about a quarter-mile out of the aid station wanting to soak up some time
with him before the long non-accessible section ahead.
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| Leaving Coyote Hollow |
Every mile on this
section was filled with spectacular views of traditional Bryce Canyon imagery.
We enjoyed mostly downhill singletrack all the way to the ‘hoodoo’ section of
the course. These beautiful soft rock spires were a delight to see in person
and I took the time to soak it all in.
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| Beautiful Valley |
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| Hoodoos!! |
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| Shane |
Many runners, including
Justin, were struggling in the heat and running out of water. It was a relief
to soon hit the Thunder Mountain Water A/S. From there, it was a couple miles
of pretty singletrack into the Hillsdale Canyon A/S.
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| Almost at Hillsdale Canyon |
Here, I also took the
time to regroup, rehydrate, put down some food, and change socks. I also
attended to blisters that had popped up on the outside edge of my heels on
both feet. Sitting right near me was Charles Fisher from Texas. It was great to
see him as we had raced each other back in February at the Rocky Raccoon 100.
He was also struggling in the heat and decided to take a long break to rehydrate.
After saying goodbye to
Charles, I rejoined the course heading towards Proctor Canyon for our second
pass of the aid station. This section looks to be on the easier side from the
course elevation profile, but was in fact, filled with plenty of short ups and downs
which brought many runners to a crawl in the mid-day heat.
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| Pictures don't do this section justice! |
During this section, we
also had to hop over a few creeks. Unfortunately, during one of those leaps, I
came down hard on my trekking pole and actually snapped the top piece off from the
rest of the pole. Unable to tape it back together, I stuck the poles in my
naked belt and carried on climbing the hills using my hands to grab branches and boulders for stability.
I cruised the last
couple of miles into Proctor Canyon feeling strong. Here, I filled up on Coke
and quesadillas and ran into Jenny Yoakum, who had run with my friend Dan
Aspromonte at the Zion 100 a month earlier. I let her know about my pole
situation and she offered me her spare set of poles which were 22 miles away at
the Straight Canyon A/S.
I left Proctor Canyon
with Julie Patno, a friendly lady from Salt Lake City who was running her
first 100, and Steffany Elkins. We enjoyed quite a few miles during this section together and
chatted about everything from the Western States lottery to using running as a
weight-loss tool.
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| Steffany and Julie |
At the water drop at
mile 38.5 (about 3 miles into the section), I ran into a few other runners, one
of which informed us of the tough section of climbing ahead (about ~3500 feet in
7 miles). RD Lyle Anderson was also there refilling the water tank. He let us know
that some hooligan had opened all of the taps at the previous water station
(Thunder Mtn) leading the back of the pack to show up to an empty water tank.
What a shame!
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| 601 Road Water Drop |
I tried to conserve my energy in this section, but the steaming canyons and relentless climbing made this a difficult tasks. Many times, it was necessary to climb on all fours. I passed a lot of runners in this section who were so pooped they were just sitting on the side of the trail. I convinced some to join me, but many had lost the mental battle and had already decided that they were going to DNF.
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| I promise this is the trail! |
Eventually, we made it to Blubber Creek A/S at mile 45 which looked more like an army field hospital at this point. I saw runners laying in cots, some in emergency blankets, and many with an extremely dead look in their eyes.
I met Cassandra
Bergstrom as we were leaving the aid station. She is a friend of Jose Sosa who
would be pacing me later in the race. She was struggling with the altitude and
developing high-altitude pulmonary edema. All I could do was feel bad for her
as she was hacking up a storm. She ended up dropping at the next aid station.
The next seven-mile
section to Kanab Creek went smoothly. In the sunset, the views from the rim of
the Paunsaugunt Plateau were absolutely gorgeous and I stopped many times to
take pictures. About halfway in, the sun set and I was forced to turn on my
headlamp. The last couple miles of single track were smooth and fast.
I had cautiously placed
my night gear at Kanab not wanting to be stranded without it and was glad I did
so. Also in my drop back were red, white, and blue glow sticks. Many runners
commented on my Christmas tree resemblance throughout the night.
The five-mile section
down into Straight Canyon was quite enjoyable as it was filled with buttery
single track and then a couple miles of smooth service roads. Here I linked up
Gretchen James and Jenny Yoakum. They were super fun to chat with as Jenny is
doing Moab 240 in a couple months and was asking for advice on 200s. They were
moving quickly and I stuck with them to Straight Canyon A/S.
Upon arriving at
Straight Canyon, I looked for my dad and wondered why I couldn’t find him as he
usually is right at the point where the course meets the aid station. A lady
from a different crew informed me that my father had gone to pick up my mom
from the finish line (she had run the 50k), but that he had left me a note and
sandwich in my drop bag.
This news worried me because I knew the cutoff for the 50k had been a few hours earlier. In my depleted state, I truly thought something serious had occurred. In addition, I couldn’t find a note in my drop bag. This really left me in a funk, but I know my dad has always told me to keep going at a race and assume all is well unless there is very explicit evidence of the case being otherwise.
One saving grace was
that I had arrived at the A/S with Jenny and Gretchen who remembered that I still
needed poles. I was grateful that they had remembered and that Jenny was willing
to let me use her spare set . One of the aid station workers, Brianna, was super
helpful and filled me up on coffee and Swedish fish.
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| Swedish Fish!! |
After downing a Subway sandwich (you know it was Sweet Onion Teriyaki), I put on my gloves and left the aid station. The climb up to Pink Cliff water station was filled mostly with gradually inclining service road. It was nice to have a lot of traffic going both ways as this was the end of the long out-and-back. Seeing people frequently prevented me from getting sleepy and kept me motivated. I completed a fair portion of the climb up with Steffany Elkins. We traded stories about being called each other’s names as children and laughed about how we had both turned out.
On the descent down
into Crawford Pass, I made up a lot of ground, particularly because three miles
or so of the descent was on a gradual sloping service road. I passed Steffany,
Julie, and a few others who were moving slowly. The last couple miles into
Crawford Pass were on a technical single track where I eventually saw Jenny and
Gretchen and knew I wasn’t far from the aid station.
Upon arriving at
Crawford Pass, it looked like the Black Death had just rolled through town.
Most of the chairs were occupied by runners that were waiting to be ‘extracted’
after having thrown in the towel. I wanted to get out of there quickly, but I
knew I needed to fill up on calories as I had relied solely on Swedish fish for the
past four hours or so.
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| Crawford Pass A/S |
However, I didn’t
realize this was the coldest part of the course (some racers looked like they
were dressed up for an Artic expedition) and I quickly felt chilled and started
shaking. It would have been really nice to have a space heater or fire to sit
around, as Vacation Races often provides at their events, but there was none to be
found.
Instead, I wrapped
myself in my emergency blanket and procured hot ramen noodles and coffee. I
also drank a Mountain Dew to help wake myself up. However, not much was
appetizing and the negative atmosphere inspired me to get up and leave. I was
also still worried because I knew Crawford Pass was crew accessible, but my dad
clearly wasn’t there. The aid station workers told me to think positive
thoughts and keep going - what salient advice!
On the way out of
Crawford Pass at 4AM, I wished good luck to Steffany (who went on to DNF) and
Julie (who went on to finish in 34:58). I spent the couple
miles of single track leaving the aid station trying to motivate those coming
in who didn’t have much time with the upcoming Grim Reaper cutoff at 4:40AM.
Once I hit the service
road, I kept up a decent pace with a run-walk strategy where I would pick out a
landmark in the distance and decide I was going to run till there. Up the climb, I leapfrogged with Vic Aguilar, whom I had run my
first 100 with at Zion a couple years earlier. I passed him near the top and
never saw him again.
Right when I hit the
Pink Cliffs Water Aid Station, the world around me was starting to light up. I
passed a few runners who were walking the downhill slowly and turned off my
headlamp to enjoy the early morning light and the beauty it brings. I enjoyed listening
to Barefoot Ted’s (of Born to Run fame) interview on the Road Dog Podcast with
Luis Escobar (also of Born to Run fame) throughout this section.
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| Right before sunrise on day 2 |
I soon hit the singletrack that wove right past a beautiful alpine meadow and knew I would
soon be at Straight Canyon A/S again. I felt motivated knowing that I would
pick up my pacer, Jose Sosa, but I was also worried because I didn’t know if I
would see my crew (and I badly wanted to know what was going on).
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| Alpine meadow next to Straight Canyon |
A few hundred yards out
from the station, I saw my dad waving and was overcome with emotion. When I
finally reached him, I explained how I had spent the whole night worrying about him and my mom. It turns
out he had waited as long as possible at Straight Canyon wanting to see me at
mile 57 but eventually left to pick up my mother. He felt horrible for not
getting the message through clearly, and I kicked myself for blowing it out of
proportion.
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| Coming into Straight Canyon |
I took time at Straight
Canyon to clean my feet and fill up on calories (I was still mostly relying on
Swedish fish). The aid station had the most delicious breakfast burritos. In
addition to downing one of those, I drank a Mountain Dew and some coffee. I
then heated up for a few minutes in the car and soon left with Jose.
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| Glad to see my crew! |
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| Jose "The Best Pacer Ever" Sosa |
Having Jose as a pacer really boosted my energy. All the way back to Kanab Creek A/S (mile 82), he told me about his family and kept me cracking up with stories about his kids. He also filled me in on how his other friends were doing. Unfortunately, Marco, whom I had met during the Thunder Mountain section had gone out way to fast and blown up. It really is a shame when first-timers let their early ambitions get the best of them.
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| PC: Jose Sosa |
At Kanab, I stopped to
enjoy a delicious hot dog and grab some nutrition from my drop bag. Jose,
seeing how much I was enjoying Swedish fish, also packed a baggie full of those wonderful little red fish.
Leaving the aid
station, I was starting to feel normal and satiated again. We were finally alone
(most of the race, the trails had felt packed) and enjoyed the scenery in peace. Jose kept me moving as we talked about
a variety of topics including my career ambitions, his ongoing physical
therapy for his ankle (which he twisted badly at Cocodona), and his upcoming
race schedule.
Coming into Blubber Creek
A/S at mile 89, we were caught by Joseph Grasso who was full of positive
energy. I had seen him a couple times the day previous and he was always
wearing this monkey hat and had a big dumb grin on his face.
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| The Tres Amigos |
At Blubber Creek, I
filled up on some potato chips, put ice in my bandana, and rearranged my bag.
Jose, of course, grabbed some more Swedish fish. It was nice to see Michael
Versteeg again, whom I hadn’t see since Cocodona where he easily crushed the
field. He had done all the course marking for the race and was planning to
start tearing down all the signage soon.
I encouraged Joe to
leave the aid station with me and Jose, and that’s when the real fun began. We
soon picked up Gus Pena, who joined our motley crew. We knocked out the steep
downhill sections chatting about everything from court procedures (Joe), being part of the construction of the Freedom Tower in NYC (Jose), and going
from being a rock climber with no ultra experience to running your first
100-miler in 10 months (Gus).
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| Had to take a group picture with the Christmas tree! |
These guys made those
last fourteen miles (the course was really 103-4 miles long) so enjoyable that we
almost forgot how far along we were. We passed many runners on
this section and kept a good pace with Jose pushing us on the downhills and
encouraging us on the uphills. Going up this section the afternoon before in
the heat was very challenging, but going down was also tough because many of
the sections were so steep and technical that we had to be careful not to roll an
ankle.
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| Rock ladder treachery |
We all had collective memory loss the mile or two before reaching the 601 Road Water Drop (mile 96). I asked Joe and Gus to raise their hand if either had remembered doing such a long descent after leaving the water station the day before (we were now retracing our steps). Like me, they hadn’t and we had a good laugh (or a good scowl) about this unexpected uphill.
While it felt like it
would never come, we eventually stumbled upon the water station and knew we had few uphills
left. Jose pushed us the last three miles into Proctor Canyon
A/S (mile 99). We started powerhiking the uphills and hammering the downhills.
About a mile out from Proctor, Joe hit the deck hard. We
regrouped and took a more responsible (while still fairly fast) pace down into the aid
station.
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| Powering up the hills |
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| Slamming the downs |
Only a couple miles
from the finish, we didn’t stop a beat at Proctor A/S and fistbumped the
volunteers as we went by. This section, as we remembered from the day before,
was really sandy and we soon resigned to a walk. We shared war stories and
really enjoyed each other’s company until I noticed a bobbing blue jacket that
was closing in on us.
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| Coming into Proctor Canyon A/S for the last time |
We picked up the pace
for a bit to drop them for sure and then reclaimed our easy walking pace. A
hundred yards from the finish, we decided to run and cross the line together
(of course I still did a cartwheel).
At the finish, we each
got to hit a gong, signifying our completion of the 100-mile distance. We took a ton of pictures, chatted for a while, and then said
our goodbyes. It had truly been a special 100-mile finish and I will always
cherish my time with those three guys.
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| Hardest decision on the planet! |
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| Joe, me, and Gus |
Despite this being my
slowest 100-mile finish (34:46), I was really pleased with how I ran the race.
I took care of myself physically, mentally, and emotionally, and stood up to
the challenge. When it was all said and done, there was a 53% DNF rate. To be on
the right side of the numbers and to have done it just a few weeks after
Cocodona 250, was a really satisfying experience. To make such awesome new
friends and to be able to enjoy the course with such fantastic companions was
just the cherry on top.
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